


Algebraic Sum of Positive and Negative Charges

by lovesrogue36



Category: Revolution (TV)
Genre: Bass setting her straight, F/M, Gen, POV First Person, Pre-Blackout, Rachel having unflattering thoughts about herself, Unplanned Pregnancy, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-24
Updated: 2014-04-24
Packaged: 2018-01-20 14:55:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 966
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1514582
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesrogue36/pseuds/lovesrogue36
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bass finds Rachel hiding in the bathroom at her own wedding. He offers to be the getaway driver if need be but really she just needs a shoulder to lean on.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Algebraic Sum of Positive and Negative Charges

**Author's Note:**

> A rather fluffy (maybe too fluffy - fair warning) little platonic Rass piece that got excised for timeline reasons from my collaborative piece with buttercups3, "Objects in Rubble." 
> 
> References to 209

I’m sitting on the toilet, seat down, white tulle cascading around my shoulders and white taffeta around my knees. My heels are off, stockinged toes balanced against the stall door. I’m staring down at my hands in… I’m not sure, actually. The emotion is too new and unfamiliar to process.

There’s a hesitant knock at the door before it creaks open and someone steps into the bathroom.

“Rachel?”

It’s Bass. He sounds uncertain and I don’t think it’s because he’s in the women’s restroom. (Let’s be honest, it’s probably not the first women’s restroom Bass Monroe has set foot in.) I wait a beat, even though he can no doubt see the edge of my dress beneath the bathroom stall and knows I’m here. Reaching up, I unlatch the lock and swing the door out with my feet. I cross my arms quickly, covering the object in my hands.

His shoulders relax and he closes the bathroom door behind him, flipping the lock. He looks so handsome in his suit, curls tamed and tie straight. Bass sinks down before me, resting a graceful hand on my arm and my feet on his thighs. “Everybody’s lookin’ for you,” he murmurs gently, squinting those bright blue eyes at me.

My hands tighten on my arms and I glance away at the awful pink wallpaper behind him. “I’m sorry.” Even I know I don’t sound very sorry. Just, (and I don’t know if he knows this but _I_ know it), vulnerable.

“They already played the wedding march twice. Ah, Ben’s looking kinda nervous up there by himself.”

I inwardly cringe at the mention of Ben. “I’m sorry,” I repeat. “How did you know where I was?”

Bass shrugs and doesn’t answer. “Is there a reason you’re hiding at your own wedding?” Like he, of all people, can’t guess.

I don’t really answer, don’t even look at him, until his fingers brush my cheek. When I finally meet his eyes, I find I have tears in mine. I didn’t even realize I was crying.

“Why are you crying, Rachel?” he asks and I find I’m not even entirely sure why. “Is it… because you don’t want to get married? ‘Cause I’ll bribe the limo company, be your getaway driver if you need me to be.”

My lips press into a thin line and I laugh thickly in spite of myself. “I just, uh, needed to know something, for sure, before I go through with this.”

“Whether or not… the hotel uses double-ply in their bathrooms?” Bass taps a finger against the toilet paper roll, raising his eyebrows.

“ _No_.” Before I can change my mind, I’m thrusting the pregnancy test at him. “Whether or not I’m pregnant.”

Bass goes white, steadying himself with a hand on my knee as he stares at the positive test with wide eyes. “Well shit. Who’s is it?” he blurts out. “I mean! I just-”

“I’m not sure.” I nearly whisper it, cheeks pink with shame before I’m flinging myself into his arms, tears streaming down my face. “How can I not be sure?” I cry, a little horrified at myself. “I had sex with _brothers_ , Bass. God, what is wrong with me? I’m a _slut_.”

“ _Hey_.” Bass yanks me away from him, taking my face firmly in his hands. “Don’t you dare talk like that. If I ever heard my little sisters say those kinds of things about each other or anybody else, I’d slap ‘em.”

I roll my eyes, trying uselessly to swipe at my tears. “Yeah, you’re a real champion of the feminist cause. What else am I supposed to think of myself? I don’t know who the father of my child is.” The last comes out as a tearful whisper, my cheeks burning. The worst part is, I’m not sure who I’d rather it be: Ben would be a good father, a good provider. But Miles… I shove those thoughts away. I’m marrying Ben. It doesn’t matter, does it?

“I’m serious, Rach. You are brilliant and beautiful and I am sure you’re going to make a great mom. It doesn’t even matter who the father is. You’ll choose the right one.” His voice cracks a little at that but he doesn’t look away, doesn’t even flinch.

“And here I thought you didn’t really like me.”

“That was never the issue. You hurt him.” I arch an eyebrow and Bass sighs, amending his argument. “Well, he hurt himself, but because of you. And I don’t know if I can forgive you for that. But this isn’t about Miles. I mean, not really.”

I wrap my arms around him even though I think I’m finished crying and there’s a rustling of taffeta as Bass tugs me closer, smoothing my veil with his hand. I lean on him for a long moment, my hands curled against his back, before mumbling into his shoulder, “Well, I guess I shouldn’t make them start on the wedding march a fourth time before I get out there.”

He slides my feet back in my shoes and helps me up, swiping a thumb beneath my eyes. It comes away smudged with mascara. I can only imagine how I must look. “Are you sure this is what you want to do? ‘Cause I’m serious: limo drivers, not usually above bribes.”

I chuckle, squeezing his hand. “Yeah. Marrying Ben… it’s the right thing.”

I’m not sure if he looks more relieved or disappointed in me. Bass unlocks the bathroom door and starts to usher me out but I stop him with a hand on his chest. “Bass, you can’t… don’t tell anyone about this.”

He glances down at the pregnancy test in his hand before tossing it in the trash with a clatter. “Come on, Rach. I wouldn’t do that to you.”


End file.
